


"I'm not Papa, Da..."

by notjustmom



Series: Box of 64 [57]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, M/M, Parentlock, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 00:53:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16029611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom
Summary: from my lovely reader and friend, AlwaysJohn, a prompt...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AlwaysJohn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysJohn/gifts).



"... and that's how I knew the three headed giraffe had done it." Sherlock concluded the third story of the night with a flourish and peered over at Rosie, hoping her eyes had closed.

She sat up in her bed, crossed her arms and shook her head at him with a stern look in her eyes. "I'm not Papa, Da... I can tell when you are fibbing."

Sherlock blinked at her for a moment, then cleared his throat and whispered, "What did you say, Ro?"

"I said -"

"Nevermind, it's fine." He got up from his chair, and kissed her forehead. "I'll send your Papa in, yeah?"

"'Kay, Da. Night."

"Night, Ro."

 

"Sherlock?"

"Hmm?"

"What happened, tonight, at bedtime?" John asked quietly.

"Nothing."

"Love."

"I was running out of stories, so I made one up, and she sat up and said, 'I'm not Papa, Da, I can tell when you are fibbing,' and I was suddenly back in the front room, with those ridiculous napkins. I know she couldn't have known, but she looked and sounded so much like -" His voice dropped to a hush, and he closed his eyes. "Like Mary. She always knew. Could always see through me. And I couldn't - I couldn't see her. At all. Who she was. I liked who I thought she was, who she thought she should have been, and I guess, I have to always believe in the good parts of her, the parts I see in Rosie that I want to... just caught me unaware, I suppose. I forget sometimes. Even though she's the spitting image of her mum, sometimes I think she's all you, and -"

"She has a lot of you in her, Sherlock."

Sherlock bit his lip and looked over at John. "Not sure that's an entirely good thing, even if it's possible."

"Of course it's a good thing, and how can she not be like you, love?"

"John. I don't want her to be like me, I want her to be herself."

"And she is. But who does she learn from the most? Who taught her how to push herself on the swings, how to colour, how to make tea, who teaches her how to look at the world in the way that she does, every day?"

"You give me far too much credit -"

"No. You don't give yourself enough. She is strong, so brave and already so very wise, because of you, love. Don't forget that. Once we are gone -"

"John -"

"One day, she will be here without us, hopefully not for a very long time, but one day, she will be what people remember of us, and you have given her so many gifts, love, she will be fine. Because of you."

"Because of us."

John kissed him lightly and nodded. "Because of us. Now, try to sleep, love, hmm?"

Sherlock curled around him and closed his eyes. "Thank you, John."

"No, love, thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a dose of fluff...

"Muuuum, that's just ridiculous!" Nate groaned and rolled his eyes. "I can always tell when you are fibbing."

Rosie glanced over at Sherlock who was watching from the doorway, then cleared her throat, and asked her five year old son, "how can you tell?"

Nate looked up at his grandfather, then at his mum and shrugged. "You both do this thing with your nose, it's not the full nose crinkle, but almost, and a certain, I dunno, your eyes kinda get all funny. And of course, it's usually something that is just so obviously not true... three-headed giraffes? Really??? I mean two, maybe, but three? C'mon... Night, Pops, Night, Mum."

"Night, Nate, PapaJ is making french toast in the morning for you."

"Brill, give him a kiss for me, yeah?"

"Will do, Master Nate." Sherlock winked at Rosie and went upstairs to where John was waiting for him in the guest room. "Nate asked me to give you a kiss good night."

John grinned and leaned in to be kissed, then pulled away and looked into Sherlock's eyes. "What is it?"

"Nate - he told Rosie and me our tells."

"Your -"

"Rosie tried the ol' 'three-headed giraffe' tale on him, backfired on her too, and she actually asked him how he knew she was fibbing, and he very reasonably noted our almost full nose crinkle, the fact that our eyes get all funny, and lastly, the story we are telling is obviously not true."

"Hmmm... and, you, you have that little eyebrow lift, always the left one, you can't help it."

"All this time..."

"Of course."

"So, we're both..."

"Terrible liars."

"Mmmhmmm..." Sherlock grinned at him as he took the book from John's hands and laid it aside, then turned off the light. "If I tell you you're even more beautiful now, than the first day I laid eyes on you, am I lying?"

"Sherlock..."

"John."

"You are ridiculous..."

"Possibly, but you are, John... still..."

"Shhh... go to sleep, love."

"Did I ever tell you about 'the Case of the Three-headed Giraffe?'" 

John pulled Sherlock into his arms kissing his next words away, and soon felt him drift off to sleep. "Sleep sweet, love."


End file.
